


Fae's Fertility Found

by Acemindbreaker



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fertility Issues, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Racist Themes, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Acted Upon, Orgy, Parent/Child Incest, Pregnancy, Sex Pollen, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 01:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acemindbreaker/pseuds/Acemindbreaker
Summary: The fertility of the fae had been declining for generations, and no one quite knew why.Some fae had hoped to mend the problem with changelings—human children swapped for a flimsy fascimile of wood, that lasted only long enough to sicken and die and keep the hapless parents from searching for their lost child. Human children raised by the fae adapted well enough, and took fae as partners and conceived quite easily. However, it soon became clear that their half-blooded offspring rarely bore children of their own, with either human or fae. Excessive crossbreeding would only degrade the fae’s fertility even further, and hasten their end.No, a different solution was needed. And so the fae turned to magic.





	1. Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innosa has an idea for a spell to help her conceive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pregnancy test the fae use was inspired by this:
> 
> http://mentalfloss.com/article/48655/8-historical-methods-detecting-pregnancy
> 
> The test actually works in real life, though it can't predict the baby's sex.

“Yet another ritual, Innosa?” Ceve asked. His bride merely smiled and pressed a finger to her lips, so Ceve quieted, following her into the woods.

She led him to a clearing where three other couples awaited—Sollade and Fomme, Nurli and Falilweh, and Resra and Libule. Ceve knew them all well, for they were all part of the fertility circle Innosa had pulled together to do her rituals.

Now, Innosa spoke. “Dear friends and dearest husband, I have gathered you all here for a singular goal. To restore the fae’s waning fertility, to call upon the spirits of the wilds and the land to revitalize our seed and fill our bellies with new life. I call upon the wolf and the wildcat, the hyena and the elk, to bring new life to our people!”

Interesting tack, Ceve thought, as they joined hands for the dance. Innosa had started out trying to entreat spirits of knowledge to illuminate her on the reasons why the fae’s fertility had declined, but with little luck. Then she’d tried entreating the plants to aid them, but that had just made the crops grow more readily, and done nothing to help the fae. Next, she’d entreated the rabbits, which had put them in a haze of wild orgymaking, but no conceptions had resulted. And now she’d taken to calling upon multiple animals at once? And the land, as well?

But Ceve’s speculation soon faded away as the magic built, stealing his reason once again. He found himself in a haze, grabbing at his wife, sinking his cock deep within her. He could feel her cry and shudder as he pumped his seed into her, and then, impossibly, grew hard again immediately. And then he felt Nurli and Falilweh gather around them, Nurli prying at the folds of his buttocks before penetrating him as Falilweh rode Innosa’s face. They pulled apart and faded away as he continued to pound Innosa, heedless of the lingering pain in his rear or the juices that coated her face. Finally, the frenzy slowly faded, and he felt himself collapse atop Innosa, his cock still limp within her as he fell asleep.

  


When they awoke, the earth had buried them up to their waists. Each couple was entwined within the dirt like some strange sideways bonsai tree, and the heady smell of sex hung in the air. As they roused and dug themselves out, Innosa immediately ran to her discarded notebook and began frantically taking notes. “Don’t forget to write your experiences, each of you! It’s vitally important to my research!”

“Heh, research.” Sollade snickered, clearing the dirt from her bare legs and helping her husband Fomme up. “We had an orgy again. Fun, but no more productive than the rabbit ritual.”

“We don’t know that!” Innosa exclaimed. “It’s fertility magic, it’s supposed to involve sex!”

“Yeah, I know.” Sollade grabbed a notebook and dutifully began to write her experiences, Fomme silently following suit.

Before she could ask, Ceve decided to do the same.

  


They bathed in the river afterwards, and then headed to the gardens to eat and rest. Innosa gathered all the notebooks to read and make notes on the ritual as Ceve headed over to pick berries with Nurli and Libule.

Nurli chuckled as he walked over. “I see you’re feeling that pounding I gave you, friend.”

“Indeed.” Ceve ducked his head, a slight flush on his delicate features. He busied himself collecting berries.

“For me it was Sollade.” Libule commented, his lips and tongue already blue from berry juice. “She rode me while she jabbed her whole hand in there. All the while Fomme had his dick in Resra’s mouth.” He nodded to his wife, who was now devouring a pear with ravenous intensity.

“So, only two of us fucked our actual wives?” Ceve asked.

Nurli laughed. “Oh, no, I fucked Falilweh, too. Before and after I fucked you.” His face sombered. “I hope I haven’t made her ill.”

“From what Innosa’s told me, that shouldn’t be a concern.” Ceve said. “Whether or not it worked, the spell will have protected her health.”

  


The wait was excruciating. Ceve had no real hope of it working, not after so many tries, but even so, he felt like his life was on hold every time they’d tried a ritual and were waiting to see if it had put a child in Innosa.

And for poor Innosa, it was no doubt worse. She was constantly noticing and speculating on the slightest twinge or symptom. Was she hungry from exertion, or was her hunger too intense for the level of activity she’d just done? Was her cramping a sign of impeding monthly flow, or her child taking root?

The tension only grew as her period failed to come. One day late. Two. It was agony to wait the traditional week before testing.

But soon, Innosa, Falilweh, Resra and Sollade all gathered in a fallow section of the garden while their husbands waited on the sidelines. All four had missed their periods, and so they spread out the wheat and barley seeds, and each squatted over them, lifting their skirts and emptying their bladders to wet the seeds. Once they were finished, each pushed their cover in the dirt beside it, spreading overtop to ensure no rain fell upon the seeds to spoil the test. And then they walked to their men.

Ceve caressed Innosa, and gave her a kiss. “You know I’ll love you either way.” He said. “If it didn’t work, we can always keep trying.”

Innosa nodded, somberly, and then smiled. “I keep telling myself not to get my hopes up, but I think I’ve failed. I really think it worked. I’ve never felt as hopeful, not since the first try.”

Ceve just held her, fearing the tears when they returned to find no sprouts.

  


But when they did return the next day, it was Ceve who was surprised, as one by one, each of the women pulled back their covers to reveal tiny green sprouts. Resra’s barley had sprouted, foretelling a boy. Innosa’s wheat sprouts foretold a girl, while Falilwe and Sollade both had sprouts of both types, confirming they were with child but leaving the sex a mystery.

This time, when Ceve held and kissed Innosa, their tears were tears of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this shortly after I got my period after my first IUI, so just re-reading it makes me cry.


	2. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four kids conceived by the fertility ritual are growing up, and they're a bit unique.

The ceremony to present the 4 newborns was the biggest thing to happen to their community in a long time.

At the ceremony, each of the community’s children came to look and touch. Resra was struck with just how few they were—of a village of roughly 200 fae, there were only six children, two boys and four girls ranging from a tiny tot to a girl almost flowering into womanhood herself, who took Resra’s son in her arms with a look of wonder almost verging on fear. None of them were siblings, either—one child was a miracle, two would’ve been too much to ask for.

With one ritual, Innosa had almost doubled the number of children in the community.

Speaking of which, as Ceve was showing off his daughter to the children, Innosa had gotten drawn away by a gaggle of couples who were pleading with her to share her secret with them. Resra hoped it worked. It would be nice if their four weren’t just a fluke.

Though the barley and wheat test had been inconclusive for two of them, it had come as no surprise to Resra that the final ratio was two boys and two girls. After all, rituals like this trended towards balance. No doubt, as the children grew, they’d find they were compatible as partners, though the ultimate choice would remain in the hands of free will.

Her son began to fuss and she gently took him back from the sapling girl who’d been holding him. As she retreated to find some peace and quiet to nurse him, she could see the bereft look of hope and longing in the girl’s eyes. There was a child who had the makings of a mother. And maybe, with Innosa’s work, she’d actually get the chance.

It was a strange mix of joy and guilt, to be the mother of a child when so many others longed for one and had none.

  


Innosa’s attempts to reproduce the ritual proved futile, unfortunately. It seemed as if she’d tapped into some power and used it up, and now their hope lay with the four children, and the prospect that they might carry the fertility magic used to create them.

And although they were far too young for that now, it did seem like they had something special about them. As they grew, their quirks gradually grew more obvious. Resra noticed her son, Lenu, had a keen sense of smell, and a habit of sniffing people. And before he could even talk, he’d make animalish noises, growls and chirps and the like, his own little language shared only with three others.

Resra made sure Lenu got plenty of time to play with the other children of the ritual. Sollade and Fomme’s little girl, Nisha, became Lenu’s closest friend, and the two of them were constantly getting into mischief, climbing trees and chasing each other through the wilds. Resra felt sure they’d love to join the Hunt, once they were of age, but for now, she and Sollade were kept busy chasing after them, keeping them out of trouble as best they could.

Nurli and Falilwe’s son, Folimil, was different. Though he shared the keen smell and the weird animalistic noises of the other children of the ritual, his temperament was far more timid and less adventurous. Lenu and Nisha, Lenu especially, seemed quite protective of Folimil. Though they were all the same age, his smaller stature and timid personality made him seem younger, and he almost seemed like a little brother to Lenu.

Innosa and Ceve’s daughter Irne was less often seen, as her parents busied themselves trying to reproduce their success. Innosa took to traveling, sometimes with her family and sometimes without, trying to see if she could give other communities their own ritual children. When she was away, Ceve would often keep to himself, and Irne along with him. Resra did know that Irne shared the same quirks as the others, and that she was shorter than Folimil and very bookish—though that last one could just be her mother’s temperament. When she was together with the rest, she tended to hang back and read, only occasionally glancing up to watch the others. Folimil did tend to gravitate towards her, though, hanging out with her in silence when he got too overwhelmed.

  


All of them were together, this time, with Innosa excited. She’d just returned from a trip to the other side of the isle, the farthest she’d been, and she insisted she had good news that she must share with them all.

“Come on, Lenu, tree-climbing later.” Libule captured their son as he was scurrying off. “Let’s get this picnic ready, then you can play with your girlfriend.”

“Dad! Nisha’s not my girlfriend!” Lenu protested. “She’s just my friend. Besides, she smells like me.”

Resra smiled, amused by her son’s comments. “You’ll feel differently once you’re grown.” She predicted. “You four are linked. I wouldn’t be surprised if you start pairing off once you’ve come of age.”

“Eww. I don’t want to do _that_ with Nisha.” Lenu wrinkled his nose as he set out the plates. “Can I go now?”

“All right, but you two stay clear of the river. The pouka has a deal with us, but I don’t want you to tempt him overmuch. He’s still a hunter, and he likes to eat children.” Resra shouted as they ran away.

“Would the pouka really eat them?” Resra startled at the small voice beside her, looking to see Folimil at her elbow.

She picked him up and set him on her lap. “I doubt it. Our queen would kill him if he harmed any child of ours, especially one of the ritual children. And he knows it.” She sighed. “Still, best not to take any chances, you know?” She glanced over and noticed to her relief that the two had decided to climb the biggest tree nearby, in full view of the camp. They’d be fine.

“If I could have your attention?” Innosa’s voice cut through the din. Everyone turned to look at her—except for the two on the tree. Resra was amused to see that they were stalking a bird and seemed entirely deaf to her call.

“As you all know, I have been traveling ever since my child’s infancy, trying to find a way to share our good fortune with others.” Innosa said. “I’ve gathered you together to tell you that at last, my efforts have come to fruition. Across the land, another four women are with child, just as we were.”

There was a moment of silence, and then they erupted in cheers. Folimil flinched at the noise and fled to Irne’s side, and she smiled and put her arm around him as she continued to read. Resra regretted startling the boy, but her excitement was too great. She grabbed Libule’s arm and started to dance, and soon all of them were dancing their joy as their children watched as if they were mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lenu talking with his Dad about Nisha reminds me of Simba when Zabu told him he was betrothed to Nala.


	3. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irne, Innosa's daughter, is growing up. But will she be the answer to the fae's fertility hopes? Or just another failed attempt like the half-humans? And how will she and her family deal with the answer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are where things get really dark. Mind your triggers, people, and pay attention to the archive warnings!
> 
> Parts of this triggered me as I was writing it.

Irne had grown up with the knowledge that she was special. She thought that of the four of them, she probably understood the most about what made them so special—after all, her mother was the one who’d done the ritual that created them. If anyone would know, it would be her and her mother.

And yet, there was still so much they didn’t know.

She was almost a woman. Her hips had gotten rounded, her breasts had grown, as had her hair below, but her bleeding had yet to begin.

She was on a trip with her parents, visiting a village known for their skill in making changelings. They had half-bloods aplenty, and Irne was excited to see them. Even more exciting was the prospect of meeting a full-blooded human, for most fae no longer took humans, since they’d proven useless for revitalizing the fae’s fertility. Oh, they produced half-bloods quite readily, in their short lives among the fae. But the half-bloods were nearly always sterile, and the single report of a half-blood bearing a child that Irne had read had resulted in a deformed, ill child who died within hours of birth.

Irne had not mentioned her interest in the humans and half-bloods to her mother. But when her father had asked her if they should accompany her mother here or not, she’d jumped at the chance. To see a human in person? She couldn’t miss it.

  


And that’s why, while her parents were chatting with the town matron, Irne wandered off. With a book on half-bloods under her arm and a sketchbook and quill ready, she went looking for human features.

It didn’t take her long. She soon found a man tending to an orchard, humming to himself. Although his face had the fine, delicate features of a fae man, the dusting of short, coarse hairs growing from his face were distinctly human. And his ears weren’t quite as long and pointed as they should be for a full fae.

She sat at the foot of a tree and began to sketch him. It was early spring, and she felt cool at first, sitting with her cloak drawn in the shade. She’d put her hood up shortly after sitting down, when a chill breeze smelling of apples hit her and made her shiver.

But after a few minutes, a prickling heat began to warm her, and she put her hood back down, still focused on her work. A few minutes later, she had to pause to remove her cloak entirely, sweating uncomfortably. Another breeze hit just as she finished, this one carrying the scent of the bonfire, and she placed one hand on her cloak and the other on her art to protect them as she relished the cool.

She’d just about finished the drawing when she saw a child run into the orchard. “Lusni! Lusni!” The child called out, and both Irne and the half-blood turned to look.

Her initial reaction was that the child was another half-blood. Their ears were impossibly round, their face squarish and broad, even as a child. They were solidly built, and moved with a clomping, clumsy gait. If fae children were like kittens, this child was like a puppy. No elegance or grace, just awkward immaturity.

“Uvronith! Are you here by yourself?” The half-blood—Lusni—asked, and Irne recognized the name from her mother’s description of the full-blooded human she’d heard of. This child, Uvronith, was no half-blood. There was _nothing_ fae about him. Irne felt a frisson of excitement.

“No, I’m watching him. He insisted on coming to see you.” A voice called out, and Irne turned to see a gorgeously handsome fae boy, a little older than her. He moved with grace but little enthusiasm, seemingly exhausted by the antics of young Uvronith.

“Soshe, good to see you!” Lusni said, picking up Uvronith, who immediately patted the half-blood’s facial hair. “Yeah, you like my facial hair, don’t you? Don’t worry, you’ll grow it too someday, probably thicker than me.”

“Who’s your admirer?” Soshe asked, indicating Irne.

Lusni looked and visibly startled. “I didn’t see you there! How long have you been there?”

Irne flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy on you. I thought you’d seen me.” She stood and approached. “I’m Irne, my parents are here to help with a fertility ritual, and I came along.” Lusni and especially Uvronith smelled strange, she noticed. A musky, thick scent. The smell of humans? Soshe smelled much better—cool and crisp and herbal.

Soshe’s eyes widened. “Irne? You’re one of the first kids conceived by that ritual of the wild, aren’t you?” She nodded and he turned to Lusni. “I heard about this—a fae woman named Innosa came up with it. Four couples dance and implore the spirits of the wilds to help them conceive, and then they go into a haze and have an orgy. It usually doesn’t work, but if it does, all four couples conceive, always two boys and two girls.”

“Interesting.” Lusni said. He turned to Irne. “I’m a half-blood, and this little one is full-blooded human, swapped for a changeling.”

“I know. I was reading about half-bloods and humans on the way. I’ve never seen your kind before.” Irne said. “Once they realized it wouldn’t help our fertility, my village stopped doing exchanges, and our last half-blood died before I was born.”

“Yeah, our village still does it, though.” Soshe said. “Humans are strong, and don’t tire easily, so we grab them to help with labor.”

“Hence why I’m in the orchard.” Lusni shrugged.

“I drew you.” Irne blurted. She said a word over her sketchbook and the page shimmered, a copy rising from it and solidifying as she grabbed it. “Here, have a copy.”

Lusni accepted the picture with the hand that wasn’t full of Uvronith. “Here.” He handed the child to Soshe so he could examine the picture more closely. “This is very beautiful, thanks.”

Soshe looked it over and smiled. “You did a good job. Would you want to draw me and Uvronith, too?”

“That would be great!” Irne said. “But I think I should probably have something to eat first. I feel a bit dizzy.”

“Come eat supper with us, then!” Soshe suggested.

  


Irne wondered why Soshe and Uvronith were heading to the same home—Uvronith should have gone to a family without children, for fairness’ sake. But it turned out that their mothers were best friends, and when Uvronith’s adoptive father died, they’d moved in together.

Irne sketched a little while eating, drawing the bare outlines of a picture of Soshe with Uvronith on his knee. The child seemed to love being held, so it’d fit his character. But how to capture Soshe’s elegance? She wished

“Are you OK, dear?” Lanunma, Soshe’s mother asked. “You look flushed.”

“Just a bit warm.” Irne said. “I got a bit overheated in the orchard.”

“Really? But it’s such a cool day.” She wondered.

“Must’ve found a warm spot. I’ll be fine.” Irne assured them. She didn’t want them worrying about her, even if she was starting to suspect that she might be coming down with an illness. She realized her private area was wet, and figured she must have wet herself slightly. “Excuse me, I’d better go to the washroom.”

In the washroom, however, she found the liquid pooling from her wasn’t urine. It was clear and slick and smelled faintly sweet, and it came from her vagina. She cleaned it up as best she could and resolved to ask her mother about it later—perhaps it was a sign of her impending womanhood.

  


After they’d eaten, Uvronith’s mother Felmia took him for a bath while Soshe offered Irne a walk through the woods. He led her to a spot by the river, and they talked as she finished her drawing of them, impulsively putting Soshe and Uvronith on a stone near the river instead of in their home as she’d planned.

As the sun was setting, and they sat on the sand, Soshe took her hand. “Could I kiss you?” He asked. “I know you’ve got to go home soon, but I’m really enchanted by you.”

Irne nodded. “You smell really good.” She said, and he kissed her.

He tasted better than he smelled. It was an explosion of sensation, and she found herself hugging him to her, bucking underneath him. Her vagina was wet once again, and this time she felt an aching emptiness in it, an urge to put something inside. Her parents had explained the theory of sex to her, but they’d never told her that it’d involve such intense sensation and desire.

She found herself frantically tugging at Soshe’s clothes. Soon, they were naked, and she found her eyes drawn to his penis, emerging erect from his hair like a snake from a bush. It was smaller than she’d been picturing, but still, her body ached with the desire, the _need_ to have it inside of her. She tugged his hips, incoherent pleas falling from her lips, and he penetrated her.

  


Soshe had just planned on kissing her, not losing his virginity to her. This was all going so fast. She was begging for him, and he felt the excitement of arousal, too, way more intense than his experiments with self-stimulation. His instincts took over and he penetrated her, pumping in time with her pleas as she begged him to fill her.

When he came, the pleasure instantly turned to overstimulation, and he pulled out. “No, no, please.” She begged, clutching at his hips, but he pushed her away.

“Just give me a moment. Just give me a moment.” He begged, but she seemed so sad at his words, so he started touching himself, trying desperately to get hard again. She saw what he was doing and moaned, touching herself as well, shoving her fingers inside of her. The sight was exciting, and he managed to get himself hard enough to penetrate her again.

This time, he noticed that she seemed hot to the touch—too hot. Was she feverish? As he grew worried, he could feel his erection wilt inside of her. Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed. Was this normal? His mother had commented that she’d looked flushed earlier, and she’d said she was dizzy.

He pulled out, despite her clutching hands. “Irne, how are you feeling? Are you sick?”

She whined, eyes glazed.

“Irne, we can’t go again until I know you’re OK. Look at me.” Soshe said firmly. “How are you feeling?”

She cried, shoving her fingers into herself and writhing. “Need!” She whined.

“What do you need?” Soshe asked.

“Need!” She repeated, looking around wildly, and then lunged for him. He backed away, and she fell onto the sand, sobbing. “Need!”

“Irne, you’re scaring me.” Soshe said. “Come on, let’s go back.” He fumbled his clothes on, and then started trying to get hers on as well, trying but not really making much progress. He gave up and grabbed her, pulling her to her feet. Her legs were limp and she clung to him, writhing against him.

He got back home and told his mother what had happened.

  


Lanunma called Innosa, and the village healer Abeni, and while Soshe returned to the river to bathe and fetch Irne’s clothes and sketchbook, they tried to figure out what was wrong with the girl.

Her body temperature was too high, for one, and she seemed delirious. She started grabbing random objects, such as Lanunma’s broom, and trying to insert them into herself, to the point where they had to tie her down to keep her from injuring herself. All she seemed able to say was ‘need’.

She finally settled from sheer exhaustion, and they moved her to the guest house that Innosa and Ceve had been given to stay in. “Is she recovering? Is the worst over?” Innosa asked.

“I don’t know.” Abeni said. “I’ve never seen the like. It’s as if she’s gone into a mating frenzy, or something.”

“Could it be because of the ritual?” Ceve asked. “Maybe the magic was activated, somehow, by her having sex?”

Innosa frowned. “It shouldn’t work that way. At least, I think—” Her sentence was cut off as her daughter cried out.

“Need!” She cried, jerking against her bonds and staring at her father with a look of lust.

His eyes widened, and he fled the room. Innosa followed. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t be in there. She’s doing some magic to me.” Ceve said. “At least I hope it’s magic. It sickens me.”

“What? Oh.” Innosa noticed the familiar bulge in Ceve’s breeches, so horribly wrong for the circumstances. Horror swirled within her, at the thought that her daughter could be triggering lust in her own father. Ceve met her eyes, his own horror warring with lust. “Go, my love. Go to the river. Let the cool water soothe you.”

Ceve nodded. “Good idea.” He said, and left.

  


Ceve stayed away for the rest of the night and throughout the next day and night, while Abeni and Innosa tended to a screaming, delirious Irne. Fortunately, she didn’t trigger any lust in either of them—evidently it only affected men. They coaxed her to eat and drink in her calmer moments, and they kept her clean as best they could.

In the morning, two days after her strange illness came over her, Irne awoke lucid. “Mother? How did I get here?”

“Darling! You’re—how do you feel?” Innosa asked.

“Exhausted. Thirsty. Cold.” Irne said. “What happened? I went for a walk with Soshe, and we hung out by the river talking as I drew—wait, where’s my sketchbook?” She tried to sit up, but her bonds stopped her. “Ow. Why am I tied up?”

“Oh, let me untie you.” Innosa hurried to release her. “Your sketchbook is in the other room. You’ve been delirious. Some sort of fever came over you.”

  


In the kitchen, as Irne drank a cup of warm tea, Innosa explained what had happened—leaving out Ceve’s reaction. It wouldn’t do to have her thinking of her father looking at her that way. “My fear is that it’s a side effect of the ritual.”

Irne nodded. “Magic doesn’t always work the way you expected it to.”

“I’m so sorry.” Innosa said.

“Don’t be, mother. Without that ritual, I wouldn’t exist. A couple days of misery mean nothing compared to the whole of my life.” Irne said, then blushed. “Besides, not all of it was misery. If it happened after I was wed, with a lover who expected it and wasn’t afraid, I’d probably really enjoy it.”

Innosa chuckled and shook her head. “OK, I did not need that mental image.” She sighed and wiped her eyes. “All right. We’ll deal with what comes. I’d better fetch the healer. Will you be OK alone?”

“I think so.” Irne said. “Where’s father?”

  


Ceve was staying with one of the half-bloods, it turned out. He was fearful when Innosa came. “Is she…?”

“She’s fine. She seems to have recovered.” Innosa said.

“Thank the wilds!” He started to hug Innosa, then caught himself and pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” Innosa asked. Ceve flinched as she took his hand.

“You’re not disgusted by me?” He asked. “By how I reacted?”

“Why should I hold that against you?” Innosa asked. “I know you, Ceve. You love Irne as a father loves a daughter, and you’d never hurt her. You were affected by something, so you withdrew to protect her and yourself. You did the right thing.”

Ceve let out a sob as he wrapped himself around her. “It was so horrible. I felt like my body had become my enemy.”

Innosa hugged him. “It’s OK. We’ll get through this.” When he finally pulled away, their eyes met and she smiled. “Now, let’s take you to see your daughter, OK?”


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irne and Ceve struggle with the fallout of Irne's first heat.

Irne didn’t tell her parents all that she thought. She hated to worry them. They’d tried so hard to have her, the least she could do was be a good daughter for them.

She didn’t tell her mother just how much her strange delirium had shaken her, or how much of it she truly remembered. She remembered it all—including the lust she’d felt towards her own father, purely because he was male. It was hard to imagine, when he held no such interest for her before or after, but at the time, if she hadn’t been tied down, she’d have gladly mounted him.

And then there was Soshe. At least in his case she felt that her attraction was genuine and not just a temporary product of her own illness. He was exactly the sort of boy she tended to get crushes on—tall, slim but strong, with long silver hair and kind eyes. The fact that he was kind to children certainly helped, too.

But he’d been so frightened by her. He’d been sweet and handsome and loving, and she’d repaid him with frantic, insane lust. She’d probably scarred him for life.

Irne hadn’t wanted to admit to herself, but part of her fascination with the humans and half-bloods was borne out of her own fears. The first half-bloods must have been welcomed with the same hope and expectation as she and the other ritual children were. But when they reached maturity, that hope turned to ash as they tried and failed to reproduce.

Although her mother had said nothing about it, Irne knew that most girls had their first bleeding at her age or earlier. The fact that she hadn’t yet had hers made her wary that she might never get it, which had brought up the specter of infertility in her mind. She didn’t really feel ready to raise a child yet, but she knew she would like to someday, and the thought that she couldn’t would haunt her until she did—if she was so lucky.

And now, as she headed home with her parents, she had an even worse fear. Though she’d reassured her mother with a flippant comment about how much fun it’d be to spend a delirium like that with her devoted partner, she couldn’t stop thinking about Soshe’s fear of her in that state. What if everyone saw her that way? If this happened again, would it terrify every lover she sought? Never mind being infertile—she might never get the chance to even try for a child.

Worse yet was her father. She could feel a coldness, an awkwardness from him. She’d broken something in their relationship by acting lustful towards him, and now he hated her. She’d always been closer to him than to her mother, given how often she left the two of them home when she went on trips. Now, that was ruined.

Irne wasn’t sure if it was the stress of her worries or some aftermath of her bizarre spell, but she wasn’t feeling right physically, either. She had a headache and stomach cramps, and after a couple weeks of travel she started feeling nauseous, especially when she smelled food or other strong scents. She’d always had a sensitive nose, but now instead of just noticing scents easily, she was actually having an adverse reaction to them.

It came as a relief when they finally got home. She’d been longing to escape the tension, to have a cry in the arms of the only person she felt she could probably talk frankly about all this.

  


“You smell different.” Folimil commented immediately upon meeting her.

“I do? I hadn’t noticed.” Irne said. “Mother’s going to call us all together for a talk, but I thought I’d talk to you about it first, because I’ve been feeling so stressed out about this and I feel like if anyone would understand, it’d be you.”

Folimil’s expression softened. “Of course, Irne. You can tell me anything.”

She poured out the story to him—how she’d met Soshe, how she’d felt about him, the way she’d gone into a delirium while having sex with him. Folimil listened sympathetically. Irne paused when she got to the point with her father, fearful that he’d be disgusted, but she had to tell someone.

“I started begging for my father.” She confessed. “In that moment, I wanted him to do unspeakable things to me.” Her voice cracked.

“Oh, Irne.” Folimil’s arms were around her, now, and she started crying.

“I’m pretty sure he—he hates me now. He’s been so distant.” Irne said. “I don’t blame him—I hate me, now, too.”

“Oh, no.” Folimil said, and pulled back to make eye contact. “Look, Irne, you’d know better about this magic stuff, but I know enough to know it’s not your fault. You weren’t in control. You know those tales we read together, about the people caught in love spells and such? It’s like that.”

Irne nodded. “I know, but I still feel dirty, you know? I can remember feeling that way about him, and it makes me sick.”

Folimil nodded.

“But I’ll try to remember what you said.” Irne said. “Now, hug me again.”

Folimil hugged her for awhile in silence, and then started sniffing her. “You smell like Sariazi did, when she was pregnant.”

“What?” Irne pulled away in surprise. “You think I’m pregnant?”

“I mean, you had sex, so maybe?” Folimil shrugged.

“But I haven’t had my bleeding yet. I can’t be fertile yet.” Irne said.

“I don’t know!” Folimil exclaimed. “I’m just telling you what I smell.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Irne said. “It’s weird, though. Why would I smell like a pregnant woman?”

  


As Irne predicted, her mother did call them all for a talk. At least, all the adults—Irne, Folimil, Lenu and Nisha were not welcome.

“Well, this sucks.” Nisha said. “I hate when adults talk about us and don’t let us hear.”

“Me too.” Irne said.

“It’s especially unfair with you!” Lenu complained. “I mean, this is about you, right? You had some weird delirium and they’re worried it’s related to the ritual. You especially deserve to be there.”

“Try telling mother that.” Irne sighed and took Folimil’s hand for comfort. He smiled at her.

“I know!” Nisha said. “Let’s summon familiars to listen through. There’s lots of butterflies around lately, they won’t notice a few more.”

“Great idea!” Folimil exclaimed. “Just like the stories!”

  


So that was how they ended up sitting in a circle with glazed eyes, while butterflies carried their vision fluttering into the courtyard where their parents had gathered.

As the others were setting up, Irne’s butterfly fluttered over to Innosa and Ceve. “I think we should tell them.” Innosa said.

“But what if they’re disgusted by me?” Ceve asked.

“These are our friends you’re talking about.” Innosa responded. “In all you know of them, do you think they’ll blame you for an involuntary response you find abhorrent?”

Ceve was silent, mulling that one over.

“Besides, what if the same happens to Nisha?” Innosa asked. “Don’t you think Fomme, especially, deserves to know he might find himself lusting after his own daughter?”

  


Lusting after his own daughter! Irne was so shocked she felt her hold on her butterfly slip, and she let it happen, blinking back to herself, looking at her glazed-eyed friends still watching through their butterflies. Careful not to disturb them, she gathered herself and got up, heading out to wander the forest alone.

Lusting after his own daughter. So her father had felt lust for her, too? The thought made her skin crawl. She thought back to that moment, her calling out for him, the way he’d looked at her before fleeing the room. She’d seen horror in his gaze, but horror at her behavior, or his own response? She found herself uncertain.

And another thought occurred to her. What if he didn’t hate her? What if he was afraid of hurting her? Here she’d been blaming herself, disgusted by herself, and all this while, maybe he’d been feeling the same way.

She wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, the thought that he’d felt the same bizarre attraction during her delirium grossed her out. It was bad enough remembering how she’d felt about him—this made it even worse. Even worse was the thought of if he’d actually acted on their temporary mutual attraction. That was too horrifying to contemplate.

But on the other hand, it was a relief. She doubted he’d hate her for feeling attracted to him if he felt the same way. They just had to reassure each other that it was OK and put it behind them.

Just then, she heard a sound in the woods, and Folimil emerged. “Irne. I saw you left and I was worried, so I followed your scent.” He said.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just needed to think.” Irne said.

“How much did you hear?” Folimil asked. “Your parents said your delirium was affecting males around you, even your father.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Irne said.

“How are you feeling about that?” Folimil asked.

  


After Irne had poured out her feelings to Folimil, she felt a lot more clarity. She resolved to talk to her father.

After breakfast, when he went out to check the traps, she followed. “Father, we need to talk.”

Ceve flinched, avoiding her gaze. “What about?”

“I used a butterfly to spy on your meeting with the other parents.” Irne confessed.

“Oh, Irne.” Ceve shook his head. “Why?”

“It’s about me. I deserve to know what others are saying about me.” Irne said. “Father, I know what happened to you. I heard.”

Ceve shook his head. “I’m sorry. I—you must be disgusted.”

“Why?” Irne said.

“It’s inappropriate! A father shouldn’t feel such things about his daughter!” Ceve said.

“It’s sex magic.” Irne said. “It’s not your fault. And you did the honorable thing. You had control, even when I didn’t.”

Ceve sighed. “You sound like your mother. She keeps telling me the same thing.”

“She’s right.” Irne said. “Look, father, I miss you. I’ve been feeling like you hate me.”

“Oh, no, sweetie. I love you.” Ceve said, then grimaced. “And _not_ in the gross way.”

“Can I have a hug?” Irne asked.

“Of course.” Ceve took her in his arms, and Irne felt a tension she’d been holding for days start to relax. She nuzzled into him, relieved that nothing about this contact triggered lust in her, and nor could she smell any hint of lust in him—only love mixed with anxiety.

“Folimil thinks I’m pregnant.” Irne blurted out suddenly.

“What? Why?” Ceve pulled back to look at her.

“He says I smell like Sariazi did.” Irne said. “Her scent changed when she got pregnant. I noticed it too, but I can’t properly smell myself.”

“But you haven’t had your bleeding yet.” Ceve said.

“That’s what I said!” Irne shrugged. “Maybe I should test, anyway. Just in case.”

  


So many years ago, and yet it felt like only yesterday that Innosa had peed on wheat and barley seeds to test for her child. Now, that very same child was doing the same.

And the next day, when they uncovered the seeds, Innosa learned that she was to be a grandmother, far sooner than she’d hoped. She stared at the mix of barley and wheat sprouts in shock for a moment, and then turned and hugged her daughter. “Don’t worry, Irne. We’ll be there to help you. This child will grow up happy and healthy, I promise you.”

Irne burst into tears. “I was afraid I’d be infertile.” She said. “Just like the half-bloods. Everyone’s pinned their hopes on us, and I was scared I’d disappoint you all.”

“Oh, Irne, I’m sorry.” Ceve said. “I wish you’d told me. I’d have told you that you’re a gift, fertile or not.”

“I’ll admit, I’m very glad you’re fertile.” Innosa admitted. “But just having a child was everything I hoped for. Having a grandchild is just a further gift.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy! This was tough to write!


End file.
